


la rima del amor perfecto

by Lire_Casander



Series: mi mejor casualidad [2]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Mentions of Violence, mentions of domestic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: it’s definitely the worst timing, both of them having a horrible shift the day before their first interview with the adoption agency social assistant
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: mi mejor casualidad [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157834
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109
Collections: Tarlos Valentine 2021





	la rima del amor perfecto

**Author's Note:**

> beta’ed by [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly)
> 
> title from _tenerte es como ser_ by antonio orozco. the title roughly translates into _the rhyme of perfect love_
> 
> written for the [Tarlos Corazonados Weekend 2021](https://tarlos-valentine.tumblr.com/post/641679263079202816/tarlos-corazonados-weekend-2021-we-are-pleased-to), **_day #2: “what do you want for breakfast?” / “it’s 10pm” / “oh” + late night hangouts + favorite date_**
> 
> love languages used: **acts of service + quality time**

It's been a taxing day for both of them, their shifts aligning more often than not in calls that drained them physically and mentally. Carlos can't wait to reach home and flop down on the couch to just watch mindless TV shows with TK, but his husband has yet to finish his shift — the 126 is currently on their fourth hour of overtime due to a critical fire in a building. APD has been called as well, but Carlos had already been dismissed and even though he’s tried to convince his Captain to go back on the grid, heʼs been confronted with a negative. 

After all, heʼs been close to discharge his firearm during a domestic violence call today and heʼs been sent home two hours before the end of his own shift. 

Which means he's been waiting for TK and the rest of the crew at the station for a little under six hours. 

When the fire truck pulls up into the rig, heʼs a messy puddle of nerves; but the mere sight of TK jumping off the truck — covered in grime and snot, face pale and looking exhausted, but alive — is enough to soothe Carlos instantly. 

“Reyes!” Judd calls out before reaching him. “Good to see you, brother. How ya doing?” 

“Given that weʼve worked overtime,” Paul points out, “Iʼd daresay he's tired of waiting.” 

“Hey, babe,” TK greets him. He stops before he can even hug Carlos. “Iʼm sorry for this mess. I'll hop into the shower and will be with you in a minute. I can't wait to be home.” 

“Yeah, me either,” Carlos retaliates to TKʼs already retreating form. He sighs, feeling powerless and so tired that he could sleep for a week. He sits on the bench, leg bouncing nervously as he waits. 

Marjan shows up first, sitting by his side, her colorful scarf tied in a knot on her forehead. “Crappy shift, huh?” she questions, nudging his shoulder with hers. 

“How did you know?” Carlos all but deadpans. He’s tried to school his features, and heʼs even managed to hide his facial expressions from Paul — the man could tell almost every detail of what happened with just a glance. 

“Well, you seem more nervous than usual.” 

“That’s because Ms. González will be coming tomorrow for the first interview,” he explains. “She’s the social worker assigned by the adoption agency to our case.” 

“TK might have mentioned it a couple of times, or three thousands,” Marjan points out. “Are you sure it has nothing to do with that domestic violence call you responded to?” When Carlos snaps his head up to look at her in surprise, she shrugs. “Paul isn’t the only one with observant abilities. When neither you nor your partner showed up at the fire like the rest of your precinct, it only took a couple of questions to get the truth out of some of your colleagues.” 

“And TK knows,” he states, not even an ounce of doubt in his voice. 

“He knows, but he wants to give you some space. He worries about you, just like you do about him.” 

Carlos nods. He’s well aware that TK worries about him — ever since their rocky beginnings, when neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, there has never been a shadow of a doubt about TKʼs feelings. He just doesn't like making his husband worry. 

Whatever heʼs about to reply with gets lost forever when TK shows up, freshly showered and with his duffel bag dangling off one shoulder. “Let's go home,” he says softly, in a voice that soothes Carlos instantly. “We can talk after our driver drops us there.” 

“What driver? I took the Camaro here!” 

“And after the day we’ve both had, neither you nor I are in any shape to drive. An Uber it is.” TKʼs tone is final. Carlos knows he canʼt do anything to convince him otherwise. 

The ride home is silent, and even when TK helps him out — Carlos hadn't realized how exhausted he actually is — they don’t say a word. Despite having just gotten off a long, overdue shift, TK doesn’t stop taking care of Carlos; he balances the duffel bag on his shoulder as he walks along with Carlos, one hand on the small of his back as though he thinks Carlos could break down in front of him. 

And Carlos might. He doesn’t need to close his eyes to see the woman — terrified, petrified — begging her husband to let her live. He doesn’t think he will ever forget her wild eyes and the manic smile on the husbandʼs face as he approached her with a knife in his hand. Carlos had aimed at him, threatening to shoot, but the man had kept walking. 

Carlos doesn’t know what he would have done hadn't his partner stepped onto some broken glass, startling the husband and giving Carlos a chance to reduce him without shooting. 

That would be more of a mess than it already is. 

TK is kicking off his shoes with his back to Carlos when he finally speaks. “You know Iʼm here if you need to talk.” 

“I know,” Carlos replies softly. “There’s not much to say.” 

“Iʼm here,” TK repeats. “In case there ever is, you know, something to say.” He turns around, one hand ready to wipe away the stray tears Carlos hasn't realized he was crying. He nods, a sudden lump in his throat preventing him from speaking. 

He follows TK around the apartment like a lost puppy, stepping in the same places his husband sets foot in, from the living room to the bedroom and then to the bathroom, where TK starts running a bath. He helps Carlos undress; he helps Carlos step inside before discarding his own clothes quickly and getting into the tub with him. TK even begins to rub Carlos’ arm soothingly, spreading some of the bubbles up his skin. It’s the familiarity of the motions, the respectful silence that's fallen over them, that makes Carlos open his mouth and talk. Words come stuttered at first, tripping over his tongue, until he finds a steady pace once he is seated in the bathtub staring into TKʼs green eyes now that he's across from him. 

He pours down his pain and his doubts, his grief about what heʼs almost done — the worry that he might be found unsuitable for adopting if Ms. González reads the report from today _and how wouldn’t she, Ty, everythingʼs written and reported and I will have to go talk to someone, and how did I think I could be a father, Iʼm sorry, Ty, Iʼm so sorry_. 

“Hey, Carlos,” TK calls his name softly reverently. He reaches out to grasp Carlosʼ hand in his, barely covering it with his smaller fingers. “We knew it would be difficult, but they already knew what we do for a living and the burden it entails when they approved us for adoption, babe. Everything will be alright. Iʼm more worried about you right now.” 

Carlos allows his husband to pull him into a wet hug, water splashing out of the tub. Neither of them cares as they hold each other, clinging for dear life. Carlos feels the tension from the day slipping away, taking with it the fear of not being enough. 

Later, when they’re all already wearing comfy sweatpants and oversized all training t-shirts, Carlos finds himself speaking in a much lighter tone, “How do you feel about a session of Netflix and chill?” 

There’s a mischievous gleam in TKʼs eyes when he stares back at him. “Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? Naughty, aren't we?” 

Carlos chuckles. “Iʼm only suggesting spending quality time with my husband.” 

“Well, in that case, I will go make some popcorn. You go get comfy underneath the big blanket _someone_ gifted you.” 

“You’ve got a long and difficult shift,” Carlos complains. “Let me do it.” 

“Nah, I can do it. Unless you think Iʼm unable to make popcorn without burning down the kitchen.” At Carlosʼ arched eyebrow, TK swats his arm. “Go before I give it a second thought.” 

Carlos complies, if only because he loves it when TK is bossy around him. They complement each other in ways that neither had anticipated, but they work together. He sighs contentedly as he settles down on the couch, the blanket wrapped around him, and a movie queued on the TV. 

TK comes back with a tray full of snacks — Carlos counts two bowls of popcorn, a beer, a soda, and at least four small bags of chips. He can recognize comfort food a mile away; after all, it’s his favorite chip brand. 

“Are you sure youʼve left any food in the kitchen?” he says playfully. 

“Apparently there was some human blanket burrito that escaped from the pantry,” TK deadpans, leaving the tray on top of the coffee table and grabbing the beer and a bag of chips. 

Carlos follows his movements without even bothering hiding his grin.

“Here, have a bag,” TK offers. He flops down beside him. “What are we watching?” 

“I was in the mood for _Notting Hill_.” 

“Cool!” TK leans into his touch as Carlos disentangles himself from the blanket to cover them both. TK hums happily, munching on one chip as Carlos presses _play_ , green eyes trained to the screen as though he has never watched the movie. 

It's one of the reasons why Carlos loves TK so much — heʼs always ready to try anything if Carlos likes it. It’s exactly the same the other way around; Carlos would give up his world for TK. He wasn't lying, all those years ago, when he told TK that heʼd leave everything, his family included, behind for the right person. 

TK is definitely the perfect person for him. And also already snoring underneath the blanket, out like a candle the moment his head touched Carlosʼ shoulder. 

“Too much for the chill part of _Netflix and chill_ ,” he mumbles to himself fondly. Finding a comfortable position, warm and happy to just be, rid of the dark feelings from before, he decides to keep watching the movie and wake TK up when itʼs done. His husband deserves a bit of rest. 

Carlos lets his mind wander back in time, when they started dating — life was so different, back then. TK had had trouble trusting him, but once he did underneath the Northern Lights in what Carlos will always consider the first official day of the rest of their lives, TK had loved him forever. Heʼd loved Carlos even when Carlos himself had doubted — even through the hell that the situation with his parents had been. Theyʼd stuck together, and slowly their late-night hangouts dancing in the club had morphed into late-night playing videogames with their friends, and later then they had switched to late-night sitting together on a couch doing nothing but just _being_ together. 

He closes his eyes, only for one moment, chasing the memory of all their firsts together. 

Carlos doesn’t even watch the opening scene. The next thing he knows, heʼs opening his eyes to a much darker living room, his neck hurting in the places where it's been awkwardly bent, and the TV is showing the credits of a movie that definitely _isn’t_ the one heʼd queued. He blinks; they both have fallen asleep and they've missed the movie. He looks down at TK, fast asleep and snoring, most probably drooling on Carlosʼ t-shirt. 

Carlos can't love him more. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Carlos calls softly, nudging TKʼs arm. “Time to leave the couch.” 

TK complains, his words jumbled nonsense, as he tries to turn around on the couch. Carlos reacts in time to catch his husband before he falls over and ends up on the floor. He doesn’t want to have to explain to his father-in-law that TK has bruised his side by rolling off a couch _again_. 

“Cʼmon, Ty, it’s time to get up and go to our proper bed.” 

TK opens his eyes a slit, so thin that Carlos can’t even distinguish the green in them, before apparently deciding to budge. His first movement is sitting up awkwardly, his limbs surely heavy from sleeping, just like Carlos knows it has happened before. And then, his husband mumbles something incoherent. 

“What was that?” he asks. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” TK repeats groggily, aiming to stand up from the couch but only managing to fall all over himself again. Carlos rakes a hand through his short hair in a soothing manner at the same time as he tries to hide his chuckles behind well-placed coughs. 

“Itʼs ten,” he says softly. 

“We slept so much!” TK exclaims, although his speech is still slurred by slumber. “We should get ready for the interview, Ms. González will show up any minute now!” 

As much as Carlos loves his husband, he canʼt help the laughter that finally breaks through his throat. “It’s ten,” he repeats. “Ten _pm_ , Ty,” he continues. “Youʼve slept through the whole movie.” 

“Oh,” TK mutters. Carlos can see how his addled brain is slowly catching up with the situation, and he can almost tell the moment when TK realizes what's going on. “I missed the whole movie?” 

“Yeah, but it's okay,” Carlos whispers, helping TK to focus again. “You were exhausted after your shift. It was bound to happen.” 

“But it was our date night!” TK cries out childishly. Carlos wants to kiss that pout off his husbandʼs lips. “I wanted to watch a movie with you, enjoy a night in underneath our blankets and—” he trails off when he looks down to his lap and notices that he has not one, but _two_ blankets wrapped around his waist. “Hold on, have I managed to steal your new blanket from you?” 

“You bet you have.” Carlos lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s fine. For real. I napped a bit as well.” 

“You did?” TK stares at him, his eyes still heavy with slumber. “Even though I hogged both blankets?” 

“I always sleep better when I'm with you,” Carlos declares, not caring that it sounds corny and cheesy. It’s his truth — nobody can take it from him. TK replies by burying his face into Carlosʼ well-worn t-shirt. 

“You sap.” 

“Oh, yeah, I am an old sap. But I'm _your_ old sap.” 

“I won't argue about that,” TK says. He smiles into Carlosʼ shirt; Carlos can tell from the way his voice peaks like it always does when TK is happy. 

“What do you say, we go upstairs and get some sleep in an actual bed?” Carlos offers, his hands still caressing TKʼs back up and down. “You are dead on your feet, and I could use some rest too.” 

“Do I get to cuddle with you?” 

At that, Carlos can't help the laugh that ripples through his body. He knows TK can feel the waves himself, they're pressed together so closely. “Don't you always?” 

“That’s true,” TK mumbles in reply. “I love it.” 

“And I love _you_.” 

“Told you, you're a sap.” 

Carlos doesn’t retaliate; he simply manages to stand up without breaking much skin contact with TK before scooping him up despite his protests. He takes his husband upstairs bridal style, just the way they entered the apartment after their wedding — they hadn't wanted fancy hotel suites or even a honeymoon far away. They went straight back to the place that had seen them evolve as a couple, and they spent a few days in the Reyesʼ ranch before TK showed Carlos his stomping grounds up in New York City. 

Theyʼve never been traditional, theyʼve never done things because it was the next logical step or because it was expected of them — theyʼve set their own goals and theyʼve fought together to reach them. And now they're walking that extra mile together. 

When he helps TK, already half asleep, under the covers, Carlos reflects on how far theyʼve come and how much of their road is still open for discovery. He wouldn’t have chosen a better partner for this journey they call life. 

TK snores softly, and Carlos chuckles. He lies right beside his husband, throwing an arm over TKʼs form. He always marvels at the ease with which they fit together — two missing pieces of an incomplete puzzle they're creating together. 

No better person to share his life, indeed.


End file.
